


And Goodnight

by wisdomeagle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: maleslashminis, Episode: s07e18 Dirty Girls, Guitar, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-02
Updated: 2006-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:58:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdomeagle/pseuds/wisdomeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kind of comfort</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soft_princess](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=soft_princess).



Willow worries her hands, looks at Giles sideways and scared, whispers words he can't quite understand. He hasn't the energy or the nerve to ask her to repeat herself; the hospital, familiar as home, is large and clean and glittering around them, and their shoes squeak against its endless hallways. Willow's voice is almost a whimper.

Giles is carrying his guitar.

A year ago, even, he would carry a crossbow, curved against his shoulder, stakes and swords, powerful and impotent weapons, everything necessary to dispose of Caleb. A year ago, he held bright magicks against Willow's dark hair and heart and he did not falter. Five years ago, he would have gladly died to revenge Jenny.

This year, when Willow raps nervously on the door of Xander's private room, when perpetual exhaustion has all but defeated them, there is no crossbow, no stake, no flames and no glory. Willow clutches Xander's hands tightly in hers, and Giles too has the instinct to grab tightly, to assure himself that Xander is still alive, that his breath and heartbeat are steady and strong. Xander opens one eye, sees Giles in the doorway, and smiles wanly.

Giles takes a seat well away from Xander's bed. Once there were too many reasons for them to keep this a secret, and now there are far too few. Now, when Xander is half-blind and Buffy completely so, when the world is not ending but evaporating, when Sunnydale is too empty to be salvaged, there is no reason in the world why the others shouldn't know that he loves Xander, that he has been not seduced but ravaged by Xander's soft hair and brilliantly brittle laughter.

"You brought your guitar," Xander says with a struggle not to choke, and Willow bows her head, bites her lip.

"Yes."

"Gonna sing for me?"

"If you'd like." He tries to be casual -- not, God, because Willow is there, but because if he let one emotion into his voice the rest would follow, because he is quite certain that if he touched Xander, he would be dissolved entirely by griefs.

Xander closes his eye, leans back. "Go ahead." His voice is too soft, too stuttery. The impulse flares to grab Willow away from him, lock the door, empty the room and kiss Xander savagely, wake him from immobility and despair, make him bruise and burn and respond with his own hard, savage kisses.

He plucks a chord, lets it shimmer in the air for a moment. He remembers a lullaby and plays it through, then closes his eyes and tries the lyrics, soft nonsense whispers that seem, in this room, to contain every awkward look between them, every time he caught Xander staring and Xander lowered his eyes, every fervent, frantic kiss from very first. The song ends, and Giles is afraid to open his eyes and see Xander lying, still, afraid.

"Come here," Xander whispers, and Willow is gone; Giles did not see her leave but feels the intimacy of his song overwhelmed her. He stands, leaves the guitar, and kneels by Xander's bed. "Don't say --"

"No," he says. He kisses Xander before either man has a chance to attempt apologies, or humor, or worse. He kisses Xander before his heart can break; he kisses Xander, and Xander's kisses haven't changed, are just as ragged and as awkward and as brilliant as always. He kneels, and lingers, and for awhile, nothing is dreadful.


End file.
